Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005
March 13th’s Wavelength looks to be a good one with Jens Lekman making what I think is his Toronto debut. Already a star in his native Sweden, Lekman trades in the sort of cleverly gorgeous pop melancholia that makes the indie kids swoon. Need proof?
There’s some audio clips here, No Love For Ned features an in-studio set in this week’s show, his North American label Secretly Canadian also has some rare mp3s available for your sampling as well as some full length mp3s and a video taken from his new album When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog, which came out last year. I admit I’ve only heard a little bit of Lekman’s stuff, but it seems quite nice and will probably be enough to drag me out to Sneaky Dee’s on a Sunday night. And I’m feeling partial to Swedes lately.
The other act that night will be The Dating Service, described as “critical synth-pop from members of The Hidden Cameras and Republic of Safety. Head Camera Joel Gibb also handles DJ duties. Admission as always is pay-what-you-can.
While the news hasn’t been good from Wheat-land, there’s at least a silver lining to their current state of hiatus. This site has a number of live and radio shows available for download and enjoyment, courtesy of the band. They’re also hoping to re-release Medeiros and Hope and Adams (I didn’t realize they were out of print) and maybe even the “naked” version of Per Second Per Second Per Second Every Second that was originally supposed to come out on Nude Records. I would love for that to see the light of day as I thought the Aware version that eventually did come out was horribly overproduced and really didn’t do the songs justice. The Nude recordings were much more alive. As for what the Wheat boys are doing now, Ricky has a new band called Duresse and he says that a new project with Scott and Brendan will be turning up any day now.
And speaking of break-ups, The Jayhawks are done (bugmenot: thisisbull / thisisbull). Alas. That Tim O’Reagan solo record sounds mighty interesting, though, and a new Golden Smog record will always be welcome in my home. Silver linings, folks. Silver linings.
Billboard talks to Ira Kaplan of Yo La Tengo about assembling the Prisoners of Love: A Smattering of Scintillating Senescent Songs, 1985-2003 compilation (due out March 22) and what to expect from the band in the way of new music, namely a couple of soundtracks that may never get released, and a new album which the band is “slowly at work on”.
Folks looking for something to do in town tonight may want to swing by the Horseshoe for Nu Nusic Night – The Empires are a local combo who play some pretty nice moody space rock. I’ve been meaning to check them out for a while now and if I can get off my ass to be down there for 9:30, I may well do so.
24: So we’re what – ten hours in now? We’re right on schedule for the mid-season ennui to set in. You know, that difficult middle period where the characters are given the equivalent of busy work before things really ramp up into the final few hours of over-the-top madness. This is when we get the subplots like characters getting amnesia, getting attacked by mountain lions, etc. I don’t fault the producers that much – twenty-four hours of solid story is a lot to ask – but it can be a bit of a trial. Anyway, surely they should know by now that anytime anyone leaves CTU, they get ambushed. Go to get the security footage of that party? Ambushed. Go to get that computer file from that place (wasn’t paying that much attention)? Ambushed. Go to the parking lot? Ambushed. Go out to get a coffee? Ambushed. I must admit, I’m a little shocked that no one assassinated Paul at the end of the episode there. But assuming that they’ve now unveiled this season’s real Big Bad, it has to be noted, as Curtis so astutely observed, that he’s American. So much for villainizing Muslims – they’re just pawns in all this. Five will get you six that Mr Height Complex is doing this to make money. Evil evil corporations. Doesn’t that make it white dudes who were the bad guys in all four seasons now?
np – The Futureheads / The Futureheads